Hmm. If I can’t move, but they can, then…

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St. Domenico was the patron saint of people bitten by snakes, see, so every year these townspeople thank him by covering his statue with writhing, slithering, fang-showing, tongue-darting snakes.

Then everybody jams themselves so close to the snake-draped statue that they can’t move at all.

But anyhow, here’s the guy I love. He’s right next to the statue, hitting his head Homer Simpson-style. You can see him just starting to do the math. I figure the next photo in the sequence, which I sadly lack, is probably a masterpiece of physical comedy.